Chapter 10

The rain poured down in torrents.

The floor-to-ceiling windows were covered in swirling, meandering patterns, heavy and humid. Amidst the distant rumble of thunder, a snow-white parrot glided down and perched on Song Shuling’s shoulder.

It tilted its head, its black, beady eyes looking at the silent man, and called out in confusion.

Song Shuling snapped out of his reverie, his eyes lifting slightly.

“Did you send the umbrella?”

The servant stood respectfully beside him. “Sir, it has been delivered.”

The long black umbrella was handed over when the other person was standing under the eaves, staring blankly at the torrential rain.

He was quite polite, smiling sweetly and saying thank you.

Then he opened the umbrella and disappeared into the rain.

The parrot, growing impatient, pecked at the downy feathers on its chest and flew away.

Song Shuling didn’t say anything more, just waved his hand. The servant, familiar with his habits, bowed his head and stepped back.

“Sir, about that tomato and egg stir-fry…”

“Throw it away.”

Lightning split the heavy sky, casting a brief brightness on the man’s face. Inside the room, only his breathing could be heard, along with the silent tropical fish swimming in the tank. It was so quiet, yet so noisy. Song Shuling picked up the lighter, the gears grinding a couple of times, sparking a few sparks.

But it didn’t light.

Businessmen are generally quite particular.

This particularity can manifest in many ways—feng shui, metaphysics, and even small mishaps when leaving the house can change their original intentions.

Song Shuling was an exception.

He didn’t believe in such things.

So, when he saw the key on the black velvet, his heart remained calm.

He had already removed all his rings and other jewelry, but he hadn’t expected to find such a small trinket.

He had rushed to the funeral parlor, not yet pushing the door open, when the staff brought him this.

He reached out and took it in his palm.

“Sir,”

Xiao Liang hesitated, reminding him, “Be careful of taboos.”

Song Shuling spoke calmly, “He’s dead. What else is there to care about?”

He examined the key carefully. It was very small, silver, and seemingly ordinary—

But it was found in the furnace when Song Qinwen was cremated.

The Song family didn’t practice burial. They believed in coming and going into the world with nothing, regardless of their reputation in life, whether praised or reviled. After death, they were buried in a simple grave. Some ancestors had even left wills, instructing that their ashes be scattered at sea, disappearing into the vast, blue expanse.

It was a rather carefree way to go.

That day, he put the key in his pocket and pushed open the door to the memorial hall. He saw Ruan Zhen in the corner, tussling with his nephews, and was momentarily stunned by the flying ashes, almost forgetting to investigate the key’s origin.

When he realized this, he found that there was no way to trace it.

No information at all.

But Song Shuling’s mind quickly formed a hypothesis.

Indeed.

“Click.”

The subtle sound of a lock opening.

Accompanied by a gasp, Ruan Zhen, in the next room, cursed under his breath.

Song Shuling turned off the speaker and got up, walking towards the floor-to-ceiling window.

Outside, the storm clouds had gathered, and large raindrops were about to fall.

In front of the clean window, the man’s handsome features were clearly reflected, though the lines were not pronounced—

He was smiling.

—

Ruan Zhen walked on the inner side of the sidewalk, tightly gripping the handle of the umbrella, shivering uncontrollably.

It was so cold.

That damn Song Shuling, not even sending someone to pick him up!

Mansions were usually far from the city center, built in the picturesque countryside. There was no chance of catching a taxi here, let alone finding a bike to ride. The rose branches extending from the fence slapped against the umbrella, making a rustling sound.

The only consolation was that his body was free.

Though his inner thighs were still sore from the friction, it would heal in a few days. He had thrown the chains and leg cuffs in the trash, not wanting to see them again. Now, he planned to go home and check the situation.

At least he needed to remove the surveillance cameras.

When he was forced to come to the Song family, he had lied to Zhang Laotou, saying he was attending a school training camp for about a month and a half, asking him not to worry.

Zhang Laotou had no suspicions.

Actually, Ruan Zhen had many loopholes in his lie. He hadn’t packed any large luggage, hadn’t taken any books, and the yellow dog had been barking—

But in front of Zhang Laotou, Ruan Zhen had told many lies.

So he could lie so casually and calmly, without being seen through, his expression as usual, dazed and confused.

As if he had never stepped into the world of suffering.

“Grandpa, I’m afraid of bugs!”

“Don’t worry, no one will bully me at school.”

“It’s not cold at all.”

Ruan Zhen trudged through the rain, stumbling, planning to stop at a convenience store or fast-food restaurant if he saw one, to rest and wait for the rain to stop before finding a way home.

But before he had taken a few steps, he heard the sound of brakes.

In that instant, he turned sharply, using the umbrella to block the splashing rain.

His rolled-up pants got wet, the cold seeping through.

The rear window of the car slowly lowered.

Song Chunfeng snapped his fingers.

His exaggerated sunglasses covered most of his face, his hair neatly combed, and the scent of perfume wafted from a distance, exuding the air of a playboy.

Ruan Zhen didn’t even bother to look at him.

Wearing sunglasses in a downpour.

What a lunatic.

“Hey, get in the car.”

His voice, mixed with the rain, was filled with sarcasm.

Ruan Zhen remained silent, continuing to walk forward.

The black luxury car started slowly, following him like a ghost.

“What’s wrong, don’t want to go home with me?”

Song Chunfeng pulled down his sunglasses, glancing at Ruan Zhen. “Father specifically instructed us brothers to take good care of you before he left.”

“Since we’re family, now that Third Brother is in the hospital, you should go see him, right?”

He leaned back, nonchalantly. “Stepmother…?”

Ruan Zhen stopped, seeing an oval puddle ahead.

The news spread quickly.

Probably because he had stabbed him with a pair of scissors, causing him to scream all the way back, which led Song Chunfeng to come and investigate.

“So, you won’t let me go, will you?”

Ruan Zhen stepped on the puddle, continuing forward.

The next second, the car stopped quietly.

In the pouring rain, Song Chunfeng didn’t get out, calmly watching the bodyguard approach Ruan Zhen and said, word by word, “Unless you die.”

Ruan Zhen said coldly, “Why bother, for such a big grudge?”

He turned to look at Song Chunfeng. “I’ll go.”

The sidewalk and the luxury car were separated by a shallow puddle, a few steps away, almost within reach—

“I didn’t ask you to get in,” Song Chunfeng raised his voice. “You’re all wet, do you want to soak the back seat?”

He looked at Ruan Zhen’s expression, trying to find signs of helplessness and embarrassment.

Ruan Zhen, as if expecting this, remained calm. “Fine, where should I sit?”

His pale face, with wet hair sticking to his forehead, still had a lazy look in his eyes, showing no signs of distress.

Song Chunfeng grumbled, “The trunk.”

“Fair enough.”

Ruan Zhen nodded in agreement. “Wet clothes do get dirty…”

Before he finished speaking, he jabbed the wet umbrella at Song Chunfeng’s face, quickly spinning the handle, splashing water everywhere.

Just like the yellow dog after a bath!

Efficient indeed!

The car’s interior was too small, and Song Chunfeng screamed, using his arm to shield his face. “Are you crazy? This is my designer clothes… Ah!”

Ruan Zhen used the umbrella to block the flailing kicks and punches, squeezing into the back seat without hesitation.

“You dare!”

Song Chunfeng’s nose almost twisted in anger, reaching for the umbrella. “Get out of the car!”

But he was no match for Ruan Zhen. The umbrella had a sharp tip, jabbing his stomach harder each time.

It hurt like hell!

Ruan Zhen’s moves were vicious!

Unable to bear it, Song Chunfeng screamed, losing his composure. “Bodyguard! Bodyguard, where are you? Put him in the trunk, tie him up! Lock him in!”

Damn.

Ruan Zhen couldn’t stand hearing the word “lock” anymore.

“This is for your Third Uncle’s lesson,”

He jabbed sharply. “You almost broke my umbrella. If it’s damaged, how will I return it?”

Song Chunfeng’s face turned pale, unable to speak from the pain, flailing his arms wildly.

“Don’t touch me,”

Ruan Zhen didn’t turn back. “Ask your boss what he should call me, and what his status is in front of me.”

Outside the car, the burly bodyguard hesitated.

His older brother had also been a bodyguard for a wealthy family and had imparted some wisdom: it didn’t matter how you presented yourself outside, but you must always follow the boss’s orders. If family members fought, it was best to stay out of it and minimize your presence.

“Damn, the boss told me to kick him out, but when I came back, he started yelling at me, saying I dared to touch his people and would gouge out my eyes!”

His older brother lit a cigarette, his face weathered.

“This place is chaotic. Don’t think it’s just stepmothers and stepsons. Even blood brothers can end up in bed together. Don’t think they’re fighting when they slap each other, they throw money around like it’s nothing. But when they’re happy, they’re as sweet as honey, and they’ll order you to pick stars from the sky.”

He summed it up succinctly.

“It’s all boredom!”

So…

What was this young man’s relationship to the boss?

The bodyguard held the umbrella, scratching his head in confusion. He didn’t know the answer.

Although he had been with the First Young Master for a short time, he usually accompanied him to the company. This was the first time he had been called to participate in a private trip.

But from what he had observed, the First Young Master had only struggled at first, not resisting with all his might, and hadn’t truly harmed the other person—

He understood!

They must have a secret affair, which is why they didn’t bring a trusted bodyguard, to avoid leaks or recognition by others… No matter what, he had to be cautious and not act rashly!

“Speak up,”

The stranger was drenched, but his face remained pale and smiling, jabbing forcefully. “What should he call me?”

The bodyguard shuddered.

He suddenly felt this person was a bit crazy.

Though he looked handsome, he was quite terrifying.

What kind of trouble had the First Young Master gotten into…

What he didn’t notice was that after the phrase “for your Third Uncle’s lesson,” Song Chunfeng’s movements had slowed, his expression hesitant, his eyes fearful.

Third Uncle was supposed to be out of town, Song Qiuguang had told him that, which was why he had fallen for Ruan Zhen’s trap and been stabbed by the scissors.

Why would he give Ruan Zhen the umbrella?

Everyone in the family knew that Song Shuling hated others touching his things.

It wasn’t that he was “stingy.”

It was a kind of obsession.

Especially with items like blankets, umbrellas, and coats. He would rather throw them away than use something someone else had touched.

They said Third Master Song was harsh.

But his annual charitable donations were substantial.

“Ouch…!”

Song Chunfeng clutched his stomach, suddenly thinking of a possibility.

Ruan Zhen must have taken the umbrella without permission, trying to use it as a way to get close to Song Shuling, to rise above his brothers!

Like “borrowing a book” in a relationship.

After a few exchanges, they would start to get close.

Spit, a person who uses their looks to get ahead!

Song Chunfeng had a plan.

“I’m sorry, stop… Stepmother!”

The aggressive person finally stopped.

“I shouldn’t have been so rude,” Song Chunfeng, in excruciating pain, forced a smile. “I won’t do it again, it’s my fault.”

Ruan Zhen looked at him calmly.

“Aren’t you worried about my wet clothes now?”

“I don’t dare, I don’t dare!”

“And my shoes are wet, won’t they dirty your car?”

Song Chunfeng quickly took off his coat, smiling obsequiously. “Here, let me clean your shoes, Stepmother.”

[The First Young Master is a scheming, smiling tiger.]

[To achieve his goals, he can be flexible, using a few words to lure a precious son into bed, then kicking him out. For Song Chunfeng, destroying something beautiful often made him tremble with excitement.]

Ruan Zhen remembered the plot that followed.

Song Chunfeng loved giving him hope.

“Stepmother, how about I let you go?”

He opened the window. “It’s only the second floor, not high. If you jump, I promise not to chase you, and everyone will leave you alone.”

Ruan Zhen weakly lifted his face, seeing a small patch of blue sky.

Birds were chirping.

“Swear it.”

“I swear,” Song Chunfeng squatted in front of him, his expression warm. “If you jump, it shows you have the determination to die, which wouldn’t be fun, how boring!”

Ruan Zhen leaned on the windowsill, looking out—

The sky was clear, the sun bright, and the ground was a continuous expanse of grass.

The demonic voice echoed behind him.

“Jump, and it will all be over.”

“If you’re brave, jump and show us.”

“Even if you break a bone, you can still crawl out of this yard. We won’t be interested in you anymore. If you’re lucky and hit your head, it will all be over.”

Ruan Zhen closed his eyes.

He really jumped.

The sun in the sky shrank to a point, then exploded. There was no sound of bones breaking, no gush of blood. In the dizziness of losing balance, Ruan Zhen crashed through leaves and branches, falling straight down—

Into a dug-out pit.

Two meters deep, not dug by them, but by someone else. A fine mesh net was laid in the middle, and a thin layer of grass covered the top. From above, it looked like a patch of green grass.

“Yay!”

Song Chunfeng excitedly punched the air. “I knew he would jump!”

He didn’t let Ruan Zhen go.

In the minds of the Song family’s young masters, this didn’t even count as breaking a promise.

Just a joke.

A bit of gambling for fun, and the “relic” left by their father couldn’t be damaged.

It needed to be handled carefully.

…So dirty.

Ruan Zhen looked down at his wet shoes.

Song Chunfeng continued to put on a show. “Here, let me clean your shoes with my coat…”

“No,”

The car started slowly, Ruan Zhen took off his shoes, smiling. “I think your face would be better.”

Song Chunfeng gritted his teeth at first, but couldn’t hold back and struggled, somehow managing to kick one shoe out of the car window.

It took a while to notice.

There was no way to go back and find it.

“Lost is lost,” Ruan Zhen lazily looked out the window. “I’ll just get a new pair.”

The rain gradually stopped.

An hour later, Song Chunfeng got out of the car with a black face, his clothes wet, his hair disheveled, and two marks on his cheeks that wouldn’t come off—

From being hit by Ruan Zhen’s shoe soles.

“Brother?”

Song Xiaoyu was the first to greet him, his eyes wide in surprise. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing,”

Song Chunfeng’s veins bulged on his forehead, his expression dark. “Call everyone out to greet him!”

He turned to look at Ruan Zhen in the back seat, forcing a smile, his voice drawn out.

“Stepmother, welcome home.”